


Defining Colours

by DwellTheBraveAtHeart



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Colours, Engineering vs. Biochem, F/M, Fluff, Parents are briefly mentioned but I thought I'd add them anyway, Slight Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7332265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwellTheBraveAtHeart/pseuds/DwellTheBraveAtHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some colours have more meaning in your life than others. Here are a selection of colours for Jemma Simmons (mostly) in relation to her and Fitz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defining Colours

_i. Pink_

Pink was the colour of the walls in her bedroom, when a man and a woman in black suits came to her house and made her an offer that she simply couldn’t refuse. She was seventeen, fresh off the back of her second PhD and clueless as to what to do next. Along came the chance to study with other prodigies, and people who wouldn’t look at her like she was freak when she listed the kinetic properties of the elements. She would get to learn from some of the most brilliant minds in the world. Jemma Simmons was not going to say no to that. So she said goodbye to the pink walls of her bedroom as she packed her things, eyes shining with excitement for what she would learn and everything else that the academy would offer her.

Pink was the colour of her notebook that she was diligently taking notes in when she heard a Scottish accent come from the back of the class. Her head whipped around and she saw a boy her age answer the question doctor Hall had posed. His answer was absolutely perfect. Even she couldn’t add anything to it. Simmons knew who he was, of course. She had researched everyone in her class straight after orientation and he was the only other student her age and from the UK. He had been quiet and reserved for the whole time they had been there, but he was clever - _very_ clever. Maybe even as clever as herself (though she would never say it out loud). The only time she had heard him speak was to seemingly ‘out answer’ her. Simmons wrote his name in the margin of her notebook, smirking as she did so. Leopold Fitz - her new academic nemesis. He could try and one up her all he liked, but Simmons knew who would reign victorious.

Pink was her shirt when they first stepped onto the Bus. Her whole body was a mess of nerves and pure excitement. They would be out in the world, having adventures and helping people. They even had their own lab with their own tools and machinery. All in all, Simmons saw no reason for Fitz to be so grumpy as he watched their equipment being unloaded. She rolled her eyes affectionately, taking him by the arm so he couldn’t yell at any more operations agents for ‘mishandling’ their work. Together they took their first steps onto what would be their new home. Simmons looked over to her best friend and maybe her excitement was infectious because despite his huffing and puffing, she would swear that she saw the hint of a smile.

Pink was the colour of the mug she was drinking from as she sat by Fitz’s bedside, hoping with every cell in her body that he would wake up. Today was day nine and watching him lie motionless in the bed was as agonisingly painful as the last. The beeping of the heart monitor was all she could hear as she took another sip of tea. One hand was holding the mug while her other held onto his. Fitz’s hands were still warm and his fingertips still as callous as if he hand been working in the lab mere minutes ago. But they weren’t holding tools, or intricate bits of wiring, or tapping on the desk in frustration. She just needed him to come back. That’s all she wanted, some kind of sign that she wouldn’t lose him. And that’s what she got. She had just placed her mug down on the table beside Fitz’s bed when she saw it.. At first she thought it was her mind playing tricks, but his eyelids fluttered again and slowly began to open. Jemma’s hands moved to cup his face as tears streamed down her own and she called out for another doctor. Fitz’s eyes moved back and forth, taking in her face as she gave him a watery smile. He was alive. _He was alive._

Pink was what filled the sky as she stood next to her best friend, watching the sunrise from the window at the base. When he said that he had seen her videos, he gave her an out. Fitz gave her a chance to backtrack and say that it was dehydration talking and that they didn’t need to settle down together in Perthshire. But Jemma didn’t want an out. She needed Fitz to know what she thought he already should. That she planned on loving him for the rest of her days. Yes, she had loved Will, but with Fitz it was different. He was as much a part of her as her heart. Fitz was her heart. And there he was, standing next to her and giving her everything she needed. Jemma wanted to move closer to him and rest her head on his shoulder, but right now she didn’t think she could. Fitz was giving her space to appreciate the sunrise with no ulterior motive. So that’s what she did. Jemma stood at the window, with her best friend in the world, watching the sky run through various glorious shades of pink and orange as the sun peaked over the horizon.

 

_ii. Grey_

Grey was the clouds as the plane touched down into Heathrow. The familiar sight of rain hitting the ground almost made her feel better. Jemma clutched her suitcases tightly as she walked toward her parents. Their bright smiles forcing one of her own onto her face. Technically she hadn’t lied to Fitz. She was seeing her parents, if only for a week, but she was still seeing them and that counted. At least, that’s what she had told herself the entire journey - from leaving the base to taking the last steps toward her parents. She didn’t want to leave him. She never wanted to leave him. Not after everything they went through, but it was what he needed. She only made him worse and she knew it. That was the fact that hurt her the most and had forced her hand. Well, that’s what she thought hurt the most. It wasn’t until her mother had asked after him during the drive back that she really felt the pain. She didn’t know when she would get back to the base, to the team - to him. This had the potential to be the longest they had ever been apart since they met. So as she gave her mother a breezy lie about how he was ‘doing just fine’, Jemma glanced at the clouds through the window and thought that she felt as grey as they looked.

Grey was the colour of Fitz’s sheets when they curled up next to each other on his bed and lay in silence. It had been a long day. But then again, everyday was a long day right now. Jemma turned her head slightly, just watching Fitz as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but think of all the times they did this in the academy - when times had been simpler, but they still found something to stress about. They would just curl up in one of their beds and breathe; enjoying the simple fact that the other was there and that they were in this together. Jemma shifted closer, resting her head on Fitz’s shoulder. It was exactly how she used to, but it still felt different. A lot was different between them now. Or was it the same? And now they were finally seeing it. She felt him shift underneath her head and then his arm wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing her gently. A small smile graced Jemma’s lips and she just took in the moment. If she could lay with Fitz like this for the rest of eternity, she would. Yes, their relationship was in an area as grey as his bedsheets, but that didn’t stop her from feeling more at ease than she had for a very long time.

Grey was the colour of her jumper as they sat facing a poster of space. Their research spread was around them as they _finally_ got themselves together. The first kiss had been tentative, but the second was spurred by laughter and held the promise of so many more. Her hands cupped his face as his arm wound around her waist and they smiled against each other's lips. Jemma’s heart felt so full as their bodies collided on the sofa, her moving slowly onto his lap. She could feel his heart beating in time with hers and it made her smile even more. Slowly she pulled away, looking down at Fitz and she knew she had the same faint pink on her cheeks as he did. They both gave breathy laughs as their foreheads leant against one another and Fitz fiddled with the hem of Jemma’s grey jumper.

 

_iii. White_

White was the colour of the paper which held their transfer orders. Of course it wasn’t just white - there was black writing all over it. The clauses and explanations of exactly what the two of them were signing onto decorated the white paper like assurance of adventures and new discoveries. Simmons sat at her desk in their apartment, staring at the signed forms. She was excited, nervous and everything in between. The prospect of leaving the comfort of everything they knew so well made her fingers twitch and a shiver run up her spine. They would see _so much_. Yes, she had to practically drag Fitz along with her, kicking and screaming, but she knew that he’d thank her eventually. She traced both of their signatures with her thumb, smiling slightly before putting the pristine, white papers into a folder and then into her bag. Simmons would call for Fitz in a bit so they could hand in these forms together. This would be the start of something great - Simmons could feel it. The whole world was at their feet.

White was her shirt when Fitz first kissed her. He had her pressed up against the lab bench as his arms pinned her to him and she tried to comprehend the fact that she was actually, _finally_ , kissing Fitz. The Fitz who had spent ten years beside her. The Fitz who dove through a hole in the universe for her. _Her_ Fitz. His eyes searched hers when he pulled away, his breathing heavy and so impossibly in sync with her own. The distance didn’t last long as Jemma’s hand moved to his face of their own accord and brought him gently back to her. This was soft, more controlled than before. She cradled his face in her hands as his placed themselves securely on her waist and back. Jemma allowed her hands to rest against his stubble as they broke the kiss, still close enough for their noses to touch. Fitz felt like home and this felt _right_. That’s why her eyes stung with tears as Fitz whispered “we’re cursed” and turned away.

White was again the colour of her shirt in a hotel room in Bucharest. It turned out to be the colours of Fitz’s shirt too, not that she was really staring at his shirt. Jemma had other things on her mind. Her back hit the mattress with soft thud and her hands cupped his face. The colour of their shirts didn’t matter right then; all that mattered was this crossing of the event horizon. But she would eventually focus her attention on that white shirt, discarded on the floor next to her own, as the morning light peaked through the curtains.

White would be the colour of her dress as she gripped a bouquet of flowers in one hand with her arm looped through her father’s. She would see Fitz, in his kilt, standing at the other end of the aisle and she would use all her willpower to not sprint towards him. White would be the colour of her dress and the colour of his shirt on the happiest day of their lives.

 

_iv. Blue_

Blue was Fitz’s favourite jumper that he wore every week without fail while they were at the academy. Simmons could picture it now. The dark brown buttons that lined the seam of the cuffs; the one thread around the collar that was a slightly different shade than the rest; how the sleeves looked when Fitz would roll them up to his elbows so he could get stuck into his work.

Blue was the colour of the sky as she threw herself out of the Bus and fell helplessly towards the water below. It was the only colour she could see as she felt the wind whipping past her ears and her limbs flailing. She thought of how Coulson would tell her parents; the sound of Fitz screaming her name and how she didn’t get the chance for a proper goodbye. Tears may have been falling just like she was, but she couldn’t tell, the wind around her wiping any moisture from her face. She had been so close. _They_ had been so close. The varying shades of the sky and the ocean merged together in her vision while she contemplated if the electromagnetic pulse would kill her before the impact did.

Blue was the hue cast throughout the medpod as she sat with Fitz at the bottom of the ocean. The hue that stained their conversations of death and what it would be like, but it was fine because at least they were together. It was the only colour she could see as she peppered tearful kisses across his face and reluctantly held on tight to the oxygen mask forced into her hands. She screamed his name, wasting precious oxygen, but continued to only see the blue of the ocean as she traded her grip on the mask for Fitz’s shirt and dragged him 90 feet to the surface. If they were going to get out this, they were going to do it like they did everything else - together.

Blue was Maveth. Every corner and every grain of sand - nothing but blue. The lack of sunlight made everything blue and it made Jemma sick to her stomach. She missed colours and sunlight and Fitz and home. This place was foreign, strange and not at all welcoming. All Jemma wanted to do was sleep in _her_ bed, in _her_ bunk, and see _her_ friends. But all she had was the colour blue. It was a couple of weeks in when it started to bother her. She was getting scared that she’d forget how much colour there actually was in the world, or that she’d forget the world she came from altogether. Everything would be so different when she got back. _If_ she got back. No. Fitz is a genius. He would find a way. He would find her.

Blue was the colour of the button down Fitz was wearing as he walked across the lab toward her, a playful smile teased across his lips. It was the same shirt he had worn when they had finally gotten themselves together, quite literally. She took a moment to just stare at him, feeling incredibly grateful that she could unabashedly look at him for as long as she pleased. Jemma looked up at Fitz, staying at her desk and taking in every inch of him before meeting his gaze. That’s when she knew.

Blue was Fitz’s eyes. The colour she had been searching for; the perfect shade; the exact hue she could happily be forever lost in.

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually had a lot of fun writing this one. It took me a while to finish and get up here but I had to a lot of adulting whilst writing it. It kind of spawned from a lot of meta and personal head canons I had stocked up. And, apprently I like to separate my fics into distinct sections, hahaha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! xx
> 
> (I also have an idea for a similar fic to this, but more Fitz centric. Would that be something people would be interested in?)


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